


Black Days and Sky Grey

by fuckyouurie



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Eating Disorders, M/M, Ryden, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Teenage AU, a work in progress, be careful please, don't mind me just projecting, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyouurie/pseuds/fuckyouurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan lay down on his bed, once again staring at the off-white ceiling. He had done this countless times in the last year or so, thinking too much about life and his future. Speaking of future, Ryan didn’t want any of that; he wanted to die. Thinking of the future made Ryan nervous, since he had no idea what he wanted to do after he graduated. He knew depression had gotten hold of him years ago, but he never told anybody, so Ryan fought the fight alone. Tried to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Ryan lay down on his bed, once again staring at the off-white ceiling. He had done this countless times in the last year or so, thinking too much about life and his future. Speaking of future, Ryan didn’t want any of that; he wanted to die. Thinking of the future made Ryan nervous, since he had no idea what he wanted to do after he graduated. He knew depression had gotten hold of him years ago, but he never told anybody, so Ryan fought the fight alone. Tried to anyway.

His best friend was an ADHD ridden goofball called Brendon Urie. Brendon first spoke to Ryan in 8th grade, only because it was one of those group projects. Ryan didn’t even want to be in his group, but Brendon insisted. Said it would be “-fun and different to work with you, Ryan!” Four years since that comment, Ryan still hung around with Brendon, or rather, Ryan offered for him to come over ‘whenever’.

See, Ryan basically lived alone. His father always happened to be out somewhere, probably drunk on a street corner. It wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. Therefore he was alone in his house for days on end, having to fend for himself. But Ryan liked it better that way- alone.

It was the start of summer when Ryan’s well-being began to deteriorate. The habits he was keeping up got worse by the hour and nobody knew it. Not even Brendon Urie. Ryan never even thought to tell him, he didn’t think it was that important, but getting through half a pack of cigarettes a day was an obvious problem for a mere seventeen year old. Brendon came over on the third day of summer, knowing Ryan’s father wouldn’t be home. The smell of smoke in the air bothered him, but Ryan shrugged it off and lied “Oh… My dad was here earlier, he left about an hour ago. Let me go open some windows.”

He didn’t know about how sad Ryan was, which in a way, Ryan was glad about. He couldn’t let Brendon know about it, because he wouldn’t let it go. It would of been a constant wall of “Are you okay Ry? What’s up? Do you wanna talk about it?” and Ryan definitely didn’t want that in his life. Regular Brendon was enough for any sane human.

A few days later Brendon came over again, but his timing was off. Brendon was waiting at the door and Ryan was in his bedroom, cutting, for the second time that day. It was only three in the afternoon. Quickly stumbling to his feet, Ryan opened the front door to see a rather confused Brendon. “Ryan, what we-” His eyes ran a trail down Ryan, and then stopped at waist height. Not trying to hide himself, Ryan stood in the doorway in a black t-shirt. He didn’t care anymore. “What the fuck is this, Ry? Are you okay?”

Sighing and looking at the floor was a common past time for Ryan, his nerves getting the better of him. He did that in this situation too, adding another mark to the tally of anxiety. “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting it. You’ve known me for four years and this happens every day, you just got here early.” Brendon couldn’t look at Ryan the same way again. He knew Ryan was broken, and needed to fix him, but he only way Brendon could do that was to get into Ryan’s head whether he trusted him or not.

Ten minutes of standing around in the doorway later, Ryan let him in. They both sat on the wall at the end of his backyard, taking in the sunny weather. Out of his pocket Ryan revealed half a pack of cigarettes. Brendon didn’t see them at first, but when the lighter sparked he was aware of Ryan’s second habit. “Are you kidding? ...Is there anything else I don’t know about?” He used a sarcastic tone, but there was a serious undertone to his question. Ryan responded with a miserable shrug and a smirk. “Welcome to the four years you didn’t see."


	2. Two

Brendon was seeing Ryan again the next afternoon. This happened nearly everyday, the only exception being if Ryan had had enough of him for that week. Brendon once again stood in the doorway, waiting to be faced by Ryan’s scarred arms again. But this time he was greeted by what looked like the usual long sleeved shirt.

Ryan looked Brendon in the eyes. It's not something he would normally do, scared that somehow Brendon would see into his mind and coax his thoughts out of him. The last night they spent together would suggest that Ryan had nothing to hide anymore, but his three suicide attempts were still in the dark. This was the day he decided to tell Brendon how it all came about.

Four hours had passed since Brendon showed up at the Ross’ house. After he had paced around his room, frantically rummaging, Ryan stopped. Brendon would let out the occasional "Are you alright, Ry?” “What's up?". But Ryan left the room in utter silence.

Draws, doors and cupboards had been left open. Brendon scouted out for Ryan, wondering around the house. Leaning against the kitchen counter was Brendon Urie’s best friend. An instant reaction came from Brendon "What the hell have you been doing, man. What's going on?". Ryan had gotten through half a cigarette by the time he had answered Brendon. After throwing the new box of cigarettes on the table, he sat on top of the counter. About thirty seconds passed. "Have you ever decided to hurt yourself, Brendon?" That was the first thing he had said to Brendon in two hours. Ryan didn't want Brendon to empathise with him, at all. In his mind, Ryan didn't need to be empathised with. He could feel sorry for himself.

"I've thought about it in the past, but I've never acted upon it. I would just find something else to take my mind away from it..." Brendon was being honest, since he logically had no reason to lie to Ryan about anything. What pushed Ryan to tell him was most likely the honesty. "I've tried to kill myself three times in the last year."

Brendon wasn't overly shocked. He could of guessed it if he had half the chance. "Don't hurt yourself, Ry. You can't do this to everyone." Ryan shortly asked Brendon to leave and come back in two days. He closed the door and left Brendon outside, afterwards leaning his head on the door. Ryan sighed to himself, holding the very last of his cigarette. It was time to light another.

\---

Brendon was back at Ryan’s house on the sixth day of summer. This time he came at the correct hour. Ryan liked routine. He liked the cycle of his life. Wake up, smoke, cut, smoke, sleep and do it all again the next day. As fucked up as it sounds, he enjoyed it. The only change in his routine was when Brendon turned up. Ryan wasn't overly sure if that was a positive change though. Nevertheless, he agreed to let Brendon into his home, holding half a cigarette in one hand as he opened the door with the other.

Even though Ryan was always alone in the house, he felt like he could survive from his own company. Brendon was the only company he ever accepted into his life. Ryan’s dad has never been there for him, he rarely acts like his son exists at all.

After flicking his lighter, Ryan sighed forcefully, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Following this, Brendon spoke up.  
“How many cigarettes have you smoked since yesterday? ...You haven’t stopped since I found out.”  
He gestured towards the coffee table, where two boxes lay. One empty, one almost full. No sound came from Ryan, as usual. He didn’t know what to say to Brendon. His mind split into telling Urie what was happening to him, or just staying quiet, anxiety took over Ryan and he couldn’t look at his best friend. “Ry, this is a serious problem.”

Ryan shrugged at Brendon. He didn’t care, he enjoyed hurting himself in one way or another. Brendon could read Ryan better than he could, he thought. He was right. The thing about Ryan, is that he needed help. Not from friends or- godforbid- family, but doctors. Professionals. The catch is that Ryan didn’t want help, not really. There’s always a catch. His self destruction came to such a high, that living without it would feel almost uncomfortable. Suicide attempts became nothing to Ryan anymore, cutting became part of his daily routine and smoking was how he stayed calm.

Brendon didn’t know much about depression or anxiety, but he knew about being sad and how much it sucked for him from time to time. In seventh grade, he came out to himself. He got told by someone that “...being gay in this day and age is widely accepted by society” , but realistically they only told him that to soften the blow before coming out to his family. They were mormons, you see.

“You need help, Ry...”

Ryan still, didn’t care. He took the empty cigarette box and tossed it into the trash. The cuts on Ryan’s arm started to sting suddenly, reminding him that he couldn’t cut while Brendon was in his house. And in that moment, there was nothing else Ryan wanted to do. “Bren, can you leave please… Or come back later? I’m tired.”

With that, Brendon was gone. As soon as he left, Ryan ran for the bathroom. Ten minutes later he found himself walking through the streets of Summerlin towards Brendon’s house. It took three knocks of the door for him to answer. Ryan thought that his mother would of came to the door, but he preferred it this way. “Can I stay here for the night, please? I almost did something stupid… so I came here instead.” It wasn't as awkward as Ryan was making it sound. Brendon found it calming, knowing that Ryan was coming to him to start fighting an addiction. “Thanks.”

It meant a lot to Brendon.


	3. Three

Ryan shuffled past Brendon, nervously looking around at the various photographs and the stairs at the end of the hallway. Brendon gestured to said stairs, walking up them shortly after with Ryan following. They reached his bedroom, which was noticeably larger than Ryan’s, he wasn't sure if Brendon's family was rich, or that they just had regular paying jobs. Ryan’s dad didn’t work much. the only money the Ross household got was the money Ryan’s dad brought home every so often. he didn’t know how his father found the money; but it’s not like Ryan cared about what he was doing, let alone his father.

Posters of bands and art prints covered the walls, along with that came dirty clothes and instruments on the floor. it felt homely, like someone had made a proper home from these four walls. Brendon. Surprisingly, Ryan had only been there once before, a couple years ago.

They made small talk for a few minutes, that was something Ryan couldn't deal with. He couldn't skirt around the usual ‘weather’s been nice’ conversations, therefore he remained to look at the carpet. “I'm surprised that you came here… Why this time?” Ryan took a seat on Brendon’s bed. “I figured you’re the only person that doesn't y’know… want me dead.” Stares and sorry looks were exchanged within the room, Ryan still felt awkward and Brendon tried to make him feel as welcome as possible. “You can come here anytime.”

The difference between Ryan and Brendon was that Brendon openly expressed himself far more than Ryan- who- on the other hand, preferred to bottle everything up and let it all bubble over. Usually that resulted in some kind of outbreak, normally a suicide attempt. It wasn't even a painful experience anymore. Ryan didn't feel pain as much as he used to. “I don’t know how to get past this, I’ve been the same for so long- hey, can I smoke in here?” Typically, he would smoke every hour or so, but being at Brendon's house restricted his habits. Some would say it’s better for him. Ryan wouldn't.

“I don’t think my parents would appreciate it… let's go for a walk, you can then. It’s getting dark; I know a good spot.” Happily, Ryan followed Brendon out of the house. Passing his parents and making a swift walk to the front door. Five minutes away from the Urie household and through a few hidden side roads, was a small area of woodland. that was one of his favourite places to be, he could get away from his family. Think for himself. Be alone. A similar trait of Brendon and Ryan was that they both enjoyed being alone; not because of a difficult home-life, but because of their own decisions.

“How did you find this place?” Ryan took out a cigarette and continued to question Brendon, barely waiting for an answer. He did this when he was starting to get restless. “So do you like being alone...or?” Brendons replies to all the questions, sounding uncomfortable while slowly inhaling secondhand smoke from Ryan. “I'm alone most of the time to be honest.”

“Why did you come here?” That was the one question that did it. Brendon stopped walking, eyes resting on a lone tree stump. he decided to sit down, sighing and looking Ryan in the eyes.

“I came here a lot in ninth grade. I-I came out to myself… Spent nearly everyday in this place.” A visual weight was lifted from Brendon’s shoulders from what Ryan could tell. He let out another sigh or relief and broke eye contact with Ryan almost instantly. “Can I have one?”

Ryan passed him a cigarette and the dark blue, battered lighter from of his pocket and placed himself on the floor next to Brendon. “Shit, man. I never even knew.” He was perplexed by this new information, not sure what to do with it. Ryan didn’t ever really think about his sexuality as something to question, he was probably straight. He liked girls, but that was all he knew for sure at some point.

“I didn't know you smoked… You okay, man?” Brendon had dabbled- just like Ryan- with many different things in the past. He wasn't phased with the odd cigarette every now and then. “I’ve dabbled.” He shrugs, reconnecting their eyes. When Brendon said he would distract himself, he meant like this. Late night messing around with drugs and fire. He used to light campfires in the woods, let out all the emotion inside of himself and return home with a forced smile to face a forced model Summerlin family.

Ryan didn't react outwardly to Brendon. He just thought the sudden change of character was odd. In the space of fifteen minutes Brendon Urie had gone from happy and perky, to depressed and introverted. It reminded Ryan of a younger version of himself. “I think we’re pretty similar. You mind if I hung out here sometime too?” An almost instant exception came from Brendon.

“Sure, anytime.”

The two guys walked back to Brendon’s house shortly after their heartfelt conversation. Ryan settled back down on the bed, taking his jacket off and putting it on the floor next to his feet. He had planned to stay at Brendon’s house for the night, but hadn't actually told him yet; he assumed Brendon would let him stay.

"You can stay here for the night if you want to, it’s kinda late." Grateful for his offer, Ryan nodded and muttered a thanks. All his life, Ryan hadn't felt welcome in his own home, which somewhat affected him and lead him to spend many days at other people's houses. He didn't have any family left, not like he would want to find them, his dad disappointing was enough.

Brendon sat on the chair next to his desk, staring at the floor. Ryan could tell from experience that in that moment neither of them were okay. No matter how much he tried to act happy, it wasn’t working. Thats one thing they both had in common.

Ryan broke the silence, a rare occurrence. "You’re not okay, are you?" Nothing came from Brendon, he just stood up and looked at Ryan’s now exposed arms. Questions arose in Brendon's head. All of them being about what he was looking at. He couldn't really figure out his own motifs, fear and worry bombarded him. "I really want to do... that, you've no idea how hard I’m trying not to." Trying not to hurt himself was something Ryan wasn't very good at. He had been dealing with it for years. "Trust me, I know. I’m just not very good at stopping myself."

Ryan wanted to help Brendon out, he couldn't watch his friend spiral down into the same depression he had to deal with.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm sorry about any grammar errors, i wrote this quite a while ago and just thought i would upload it in bulk. thank u for reading anways

Brendon wouldn’t say he had a troubled past, he thought his childhood was pretty average. Usually his family life consisted of dinner around the table, religious views and sitting in that one place he found in the woods. Years of being friends with Ryan hadn’t helped him at all really, just made him sure that he was gay. See, he happened to have a thing for Ryan. It’s not like Brendon hadn’t had a boyfriend before, he had dabbled again with the odd guy behind his parents backs, but he slowly come to terms with his thoughts about Ryan.

He wanted to help Ryan, even though he could barely scrape by himself. Depression kind of comes in stages for him; it starts as a constant sadness, until it becomes so unbearable that he would rather just not exist. Ryan Ross had gotten to the point of suicide, Brendon Urie had not. He needed Ryan to survive, to live. For him, at least.

On the other hand, Ryan’s childhood was maybe the worst time of his life. His father only saw him as a punchbag, and liked his son to know that. Most of his younger years had consisted of arguments, fights and painful memories that he found hard to keep repressed. Occasionally, the memories would refuse to subside, and eventually Ryan would end up in a situation where he would end up crying, cutting and smoking; pretty much all at the same time. This had happened to him so many times, only recently did it become more serious, but he was becoming numb. Suicide attempts meant nothing but painful memories anymore, but to Brendon it meant Ryan’s whole life.

"So, uh... I never expected all this to come from you" Ryan admitted; he was surprised. Brendon sat beside him, still looking at the hundreds of cuts on Ryan’s arms. He didn’t find it uncomfortable, the scars. Brendon find comfort in them, and Ryan felt safe with them. Brendon told Ryan that somehow, his cuts comforted him. They made Ryan seem a lot more more vulnerable, more genuine.

Urie opened the biggest window in the room, looking back at Ryan. "Can I have another cigarette?" In which he responded: "Sure, but aren’t your parents in?". Ryan came over at the right time, apparently his parents were going out to some friends dinner and won’t be back by the next day. He handed Brendon another cigarette. He took it from Ry quickly, too quickly and rummaged through the nearby drawers to find a lighter. "I'm actually afraid of fire. Weird, huh?..." Ryan tried to carry on the conversation, telling Brendon how weird of a fear that is, considering. He eventually got up to look out the window too. Summerlin was better looking at night. But then again, everything looks better in the dark.

As it got later, the natural progression of them being together was getting slightly more surreal to them both. They both lay face up on Brendon's bed, feeling the wind travel through the window. "What would you be doing if you were at home?" Brendon wanted to remain there forever. It just felt good. Natural.

Ryan admitted exactly what he would be doing if still at home, self destructing on the bathroom floor. Moving position, Brendon’s hand accidentally touched Ryan's. He didn't move though, neither of them move.

"I'm not letting you die, okay?"

Ryan Ross had never really questioned his sexuality, he just didn’t care enough. People are people, right? Brendon was one of those people. He did think Bren was attractive, and it took that small hand gesture for Ryan to realise he really did like Brendon; and knowing Brendon was gay really set it in stone.

Ryan got rid of the cigarette in his right hand. He felt like he didn't need the rest, he was slowly going to fall asleep while falling quicker for Brendon at the same time. Being curious- like anyone would be- He asked. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Apparently, his last boyfriend was really awful to him, not to mention he cheated. Brendon seemed pretty broken up about it.

A few seconds after he decided in trying to wake himself up a little, Ryan stood at the window, pulling it closed. He usually got cold pretty quickly, which isn’t so bad for where he lived. Suddenly, Brendon appeared behind him, reading for the blind and closing that to match the window.  
Ryan turned around to face, then kissed Brendon. It was simple really. He wanted him to know that he about Brendon, and luckily, Brendon cared back. Throwing out a comment mid-kiss, Urie mumbled. "Please tell me you're not straight..." Ryan pulled back to laugh, then resumed the kiss.

_I’m definitely not straight… or at least not anymore..._


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this might be the last chapter for a while, i need to get back into writing it again, let me know if you guys would wanna read the rest :)) (also sorry that this chapter is a little short)

Brendon’s mind was racing; one hand making its way to Ryan’s waist, the other to his hair. They both pulled away and slowly slipped into bed, sharing the duvet. Brendon took his shirt off after a few minutes, deciding it was too warm- a common complaint in Summerlin. Eventually, Ryan ended up being the little spoon. However, he didn't complain. Out of the blue, Brendon started to outline the scars Ryan caused on his left arm, and oddly it calmed Ryan. "Thanks for coming here, Ry."

Waking up in the Urie household startled Ryan. He was used to being shouted awake, if his father was even there, that is. He rolled over to his left and was immediately met face to face with an awake, smiling Brendon. They exchanged good mornings and he asked Ryan what he wanted for breakfast. “Nothing, thanks.” He said, lied. "I don't believe you for a second." Anyone could tell that Ryan's relationship with food was at a standstill. He couldn’t hide his problems anymore. As the daylight seeped through the blinds, the problems he had caught the light and shone straight into Brendon eyes.

Pancakes. That sounded good to Brendon, obviously not so much to Ryan. So much so, he raced to the bathroom to throw up all the goods he had just consumed. He simply just couldn't eat properly, in fear of getting fat; even though everyone could tell you Ryan Ross is more bone than anything else.

When Ryan came to sit back on the bed, Brendon knew exactly what had happened in this rushed exit. He didn't question Ryan about it, knowing he would shut down to him, but instead gave him a concerned and sad, yet sympathetic glance. "I better get home, before my Dad gets back. Uh, you can visit tomorrow if you want to..." That was the last brendon heard from Ryan on that day.

\---

In all honestly, Ryan liked being alone. Even if being alone was when he settled into his saddest state, he still would rather be like this than being around company. Nothing had to even happen for him to reach breaking point. His mood just happened to go down and down until he could hack it anymore. Unfortunately, today was one of those days.

It was ten o’clock at night and Ryan's arms had become red with his blood. Half an hour ago, he decided his fate, death. Ryan was slouched against the closed, locked bathroom door, there was no-one in the house but him. Deep cuts scattered his left arm, some worse than others. Realistically, most of them would need stitches afterwards,but it’s not like he ever went through with that thought.

Since Ryan didn't have the strength to move much, he just sat there; mumbling sorry's to Brendon. It was a bad idea to leave his house. Maybe Brendon was his ideal company.


	6. Six

'I shouldn't of left, I'm sorry Brendon.'

Brendon's phone flashed and he looked at the bright words on the screen. After Ryan had sent it, he tossed his phone aside onto the cold bathroom tiles; he really didn't want to make a big deal of the situation. Therefore, eventually he hoped it would be easier for him to die- though not now Brendon knew.

Even though he'd read through the text once, Brendon had no doubt that Ryan was slumped in his bathroom floor. He didn't even bat an eyelid before making his way to Ryan's home. 

\---

Part of him knew what was coming, Brendon was expecting to see exactly what he got. But another part of him wanted Ryan to simply be having a panic attack or something that didn't cause external damage. However, none of this was simple. At all.

Brendon mentally scolded himself for thinking the door would open purely by his hand. of course it was locked. Suddenly it became so much more real for him, knowing that his boyfriend? Lover? Could be dead through the wooden door that lay in front of him. "Ry? Ry, can you unlock the door? ...Come on, Ryan... Please?"

Ryan responded slowly but surely, moving to the other side of the bathroom and towards the door. The bleeding had subsided by the time Brendon had arrived, but a small pool had formed where he once sat; some of which stained the side of his t-shirt. He reached up to unlock the latch and turned the handle, before leaning back against the wall in worry that he would pass out suddenly. Brendon's eyes lined straight up with Ryan's cuts, gasping at the initial look.

"I'm sorry, Bren... I didn't want you to see this..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SHORT BUT SOME OF YOU WANTED MORE AND I'VE BEEN HELLA BUSY RECENTLY i apologise


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry for the massive gap in uploading chapters. i know its short but i felt it didn't need anymore, finally came back and finished it. thanks for reading, love you guys

At that point, Brendon didn’t know what the right words to say where. He obviously didn’t want to make Ryan feel like he was incapable of dealing with himself, by himself. “Ryan, I don't think you should of come home. I knew you’d do...something… just had that feeling...”

Ryan scoffed, suddenly ignoring how much pain he was in. “Well I can’t believe you’d stay at home after all that… the whole ‘me leaving in a hurry’. I bet you ran to the fucking forest, right?” He saw the dirt on the sides of Brendon’s shoes and could tell exactly where Brendon had been, no question about it.

And so, Ryan was right. He knew it. Brendon had completely unravelled to him, and the self-destruction came mutual. He then gestured to his right, indicating for Brendon to sit. Beside him, passing the half-smoked cigarette, which Brendon surprisingly didn’t smell from the hallway; the kid left the bathroom fan on, smart. “No lies, Bren, what’d you do?” Brendon couldn’t even try to muster up a lie. He emptied the pockets of his pants to reveal a lighter, pocket knife and then continued to pull back his right sleeve. It was nothing compared to what Ryan had to show for really, but it still counted as something. “Jesus, man. You didn’t need to do that… I thought you had it in you not to. Not that you’re weak or anything… shit, sorry. You know what I mean. You’re like… the strong one, y’know?

“It’s so...there. I couldn’t see myself not doing it.” They didn’t see it as big a deal as it should of been. Both of them sat; dealing with life from the bathroom floor. Ryan was practically on the verge of passing out, even though his arm had stopped bleeding minutes ago. With his head lifting off of Brendons shoulder and his body feeling limp, Ryan thanked him. “Thanks for- uh, coming back for me Bren… We’ll do it together now. No lies.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello thank u for reading please let me know what u think :)) // don't mind me i'm just projecting onto other people


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